


Broken

by The WinneplaneO Girls (beckers), thelunaticfringe



Category: Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Domestic Violence, Gen, M/M, Murder, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckers/pseuds/The%20WinneplaneO%20Girls, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelunaticfringe/pseuds/thelunaticfringe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His delicate body lies on the impersonal hotel room bed, shivering.  There are marks on his body—marks that shouldn't be there, marring the perfection of the skin.  His eyes are closed, and it’s obvious he is in the throes of a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Written 2007.

**_BROKEN_**  

He’s almost broken. 

His delicate body lies on the impersonal hotel room bed, shivering.  There are marks on his body—marks that shouldn’t be there, marring the perfection of the skin.  His eyes are closed, and it’s obvious he is in the throes of a nightmare. 

Pete lies beside him, his hand hovering over the dark hair.  He doesn’t quite dare to touch him—Pete’s afraid his touch will remind him of _his_ touch.  The heavy-handed touch that tries so hard to break the fragile body and the even more fragile mind.  Pete hopes that this will be the time that it finally sinks in—that Ryan will realize that the man he is with is walking death.  It is only a matter of time before this man hits Ryan one time too many, and does irreparable damage. 

Pete wants to kill _him_. 

It had been three am when the noises had started coming from the hotel room next to Pete’s.  Pete had been awake (as usual), suffering from a particularly bad case of insomnia. 

The walls had shaken; Ryan’s voice had come through the thin walls.  Muffled, indecipherable words, but it had been obvious that he was pleading with _him_.  Pete had been able to imagine the words.  _Please, don’t_.  _Not again_.  He had lain there, helpless, knowing that to go over and interfere would just make it worse.  So, he had waited, hoping it would be over soon. 

Pete had been surprised when he had heard a thud outside, as though something heavy had been thrown against the wall.  This had gotten him out of bed. 

He had opened the door and Ryan had been in a crumpled heap against the wall opposite the two hotel rooms.  Ryan had been shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face.  He hadn’t even washed the make-up from his face from the show earlier.  There weren’t marks on his face; _he_ knew better than to mark up Ryan’s face.  It would cause too many questions.  But Pete knew where the marks were.  He had seen them more than once.  Not on purpose; not because Ryan had wanted Pete to see them.  Ryan does his best to cover them up.  His band mates know what’s going on; they _have_ to.  But they pretend to be oblivious. 

The first time Pete had seen the marks, it had never occurred to him that _he_ was the cause.  What happened? he had asked Ryan.  You fall out of bed? 

Sure, Ryan had answered, a flush coming over his face.  That’s what happened. 

That night had been the first night Pete had stayed in the room next door to Ryan and _him_.  He had heard the noises, the pleading, and his heart had broken just a little bit. 

Pete had started treating Ryan differently; subtle differences, so that it went mostly unnoticed.  Ryan had noticed, though, and Pete had begun to treasure the brief smiles he received from Ryan.  It hadn’t occurred to him until a few weeks after, when Pete had actually met _him_ , that he might be falling very hard for Ryan. 

Pete had figured this out because he had wanted to strangle _him_ for even daring to touch Ryan in an unkind way. 

So, now, here they were.  Ryan lying in bed, his entire body shaking, tears running down his face, and terrified noises coming from his throat.  Pete, lying next to Ryan, wanting to touch him, to comfort him, but not quite daring. 

Ryan’s eyes suddenly open wide, and he claps his hands over his mouth.  His expression is panicked, and his breathing is shallow and gasping. 

It’s OK, Pete tells him.  You’re safe here. 

Ryan finally relaxes, and Pete risks putting his arms around Ryan.  Ryan resists at first, then just collapses into Pete’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.  In between the sobs that are convulsing Ryan’s body, Pete can hear snatches of phrases.  Can’t go back.  He’ll kill me if I do.  He’ll kill me if I don’t. 

At last, the words are gone, and there are nothing but sobs.  Pete holds Ryan, comforting him as much as he can.  An idea is formulating in Pete’s mind, and at last, Pete rises from the bed and finds a bottle and pours a glass of water. 

Take these, he says to Ryan, handing him two small pills and the water.  They’re safe.  They’ll help you sleep. 

Ryan takes the pills without question.  It takes half an hour, but Ryan finally falls asleep.  It’s a deep sleep; almost unconsciousness. 

Which is what Pete had planned. 

Pete waits until he is sure Ryan is completely out, then rises from the bed, carefully tucking the bedclothes around Ryan.  He stands and looks down at Ryan for a few moments, then leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him.  He looks at his SideKick, then resolutely dials a number and puts the phone to his ear.  A few minutes and a whispered conversation later, Gabe Saporta appears at Pete’s side, an angry expression on his face.  He doesn’t speak as Pete motions to the door next to his own; he simply nods and kneels beside the lock.  

For once in his life, Pete is thrilled that Gabe is a bit of a bad boy. 

Pete has taken a few minutes to snatch up his gloves, and he now pulls them on.  The lock clicks almost noiselessly, and Pete enters the room while Gabe stays outside as lookout.  _He_ is sleeping, sprawled over the large bed in the hotel room—the bed that Pete’s money has paid for.  Pete looks down and feels rage spread over him.  That monster is the person who hurt Ryan. 

 _He_ has to pay for that. 

In a sudden move, Pete snatches the pillow from beside _him_ and holds it tight over _his_ face, covering _his_ mouth and nose.  Pete is straddling _him_ holding _his_ arms with his knees.  The attack is so sudden and unexpected that _he_ doesn’t have time to react, and it doesn’t take long before the struggles are over and _his_ chest is no longer rising and falling with life-giving breaths of air. 

Pete holds the pillow in place for another fifteen minutes, his heart racing.  When he is sure that _he_ is no longer breathing, he removes the pillow.  _His_ eyes are still closed, and he looks almost like he is sleeping.  The only indication that something is amiss is the puddle of urine that has collected under _his_ now lifeless body. 

Rising from the bed, Pete opens the door and Gabe comes in.  Between the two of them, they silently empty the trunk where Ryan keeps his make-up and stage clothing, and stuff _him_ into the trunk.  Closing it securely, Gabe and Pete carry the trunk downstairs, depositing it into the rear of Gabe’s rental car.  Without a word, Gabe speeds away. 

Pete makes his way back upstairs to his hotel room, where Ryan is curled up in bed, sleeping peacefully.  Pete knows that in the morning, there will be questions and speculation.  He has covered his tracks well; there is no evidence of Pete being in the room, and Gabe never entered.  The trunk, Pete knows, will be cleaned thoroughly, and everything will be replaced before morning.  Ryan may be distressed, but Pete is sure that won’t last long. 

Ryan will be free.  No one will hurt him again. 

Pete will make sure of that. 

**_THE END_ **


End file.
